


The Sense Of Me

by captor_headquarters



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Humanstuck, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 01:12:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9049306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captor_headquarters/pseuds/captor_headquarters
Summary: You can't see anything. You can't hear anything. You can't feel anything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also posting this story on Wattpad, if you see a Captor-headquarters, that's also me.
> 
> Also. If you are here because of Syb's post, please. I beg you not to tell me to take down this story. Believe it or not, I have been working on this for months, trying to get it to be as perfect as possible. It kills me inside that after all that work, people will dismiss it after the first few lines because of Space Bro.  
> Yes, I have read Space Bro. It has heavily influenced how I write, hell, I started writing this because of Space Bro. It motivated me to get my work out there. If you seriously think I just changed every other line, go read Chapter 3. I dare you to say I just changed every other line after Chapter 3. I fucking dare you.

If the look on your face doesn't send her away, then what will?

You peer at the blue-dressed girl from behind your coffee, your hazel eyes glaring as she reaches out and traces one of the veins on your arm with the tip of her indigo fake nail. Probably thought it was something sexy to do. You move your arm and place your hand over it. It just tickled. Rubbing the tingling away, you sigh. She probably took this as an insult, because when she opens her painted red lips, you almost expect her to say something smart, "Jeez, I thought you'd be more fun." But she didn't.

"Oh I'm sorry, am I not good enough to satisfy your uncontrollable need for the touch of a man?" Your voice is as cold as always, almost colder than the snow outside.

You watch as she makes that special _tch_ noise and sips her pumpkin spiced latte, you hate girls like this. You notice that she's scratching the table with the nails of her spare hand, typical, "You're just like this because I'm such an amazing woman, you don't know what to think." For a girl like her.  
A waiter walks past, giving her a dreaded look. You know this waiter, Rufioh Nitram. You went to school with his brother. But you digress. Looking back at this girl, you sip your coffee, "Do you know how many amazing girls like you I've seen?"

Her eyes brighten, "How many?"

You merely trace the rim of your mug with your finger, "None. Because every girl I've met is both hotter and smarter than you."

Her eyes show it all, her utter distaste in your words. She places her hand on your wrist, you barely move, just glare at her over the rim of your mug. You watch her hand as it slowly trails up your arm and to your shoulder, "...let's start over, okay honey?" She gently rubs your shoulder.

You shrug her hand away, looking at the crimson table top, "Fine." But you know she's going to say something stupid again.

"So where did you grow up?" Her voice has taken a softer tone, probably trying to soften your sour mood.

You finally realize that you haven't stopped glaring at her since she sat down, you don't think she's even noticed. You scowl at her, taking note of her cerulean eyes, "Sarasota."

"Florida? Are you serious? You look Chinese..."

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you're a fucking American. "Wow. I knew you'd surprise me," you watch as pride forms in her eyes, "Your stupidity is the best I've ever seen." That pride turns to hurt in almost an instant.

She huffs, trying to make herself seem a bit childish and cute. How irritating, "I'm not stupid, I got an A in biology." Can a girl get?

"An A in the subject no one cares about, amazing. Now would you mind fucking off?"

She finally seems to get the hint. You watch as the hurt in her eyes turns to anger, she gets up and proceeds to do as you so kindly asked, tripping a bit over her heels. You sigh and down your coffee, wanting to wake the fuck up before you go home for the day. A waiter refills your mug before you can even ask, "What-"

"That man over there has been eyeing you." He gestures to a table behind you.

You crane your neck and look. There is indeed a man, sitting alone at a table on his laptop with some tea. You barely take in his features before you turn around, glaring at Rufioh, "No. You know I'm not gay."

"You don't have to be gay, you could be bi-"

"Alright, I don't like men."

He sighs and takes your payment, "I was just trying to get you a score for the night." He rests his hands on the table.

You prop your head up on your hand, tracing your finger around the rim of your mug, "I'm giving up on this bullshit. There are no good girls out there anymore, they're all either stupid or don't have a fashion sense."

Chuckling, he pours himself a small mug of coffee, "Adorable. It's because you worked in the corps, you've been with girls you can go hand for hand, tooth for tooth with in combat...tell me, what happened to that girl you were with a few months ago?"

You tense a bit at the memory. Trying to drown yourself in your coffee and regrets, you reply coldly, "Remember that every man for himself mission we were sent on a while ago."

He nods, sipping his coffee- "Someone shot her in the gut" -spitting out his coffee.

"...I-I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine. I'm over it."

The silence that settles between the two of you is abysmal. You look at the painted red table, studying the scratches and dents. This cafe has been your favorite since you retired and decided to stay in this town, there are girls to potentially pick up and guys to beat in arm wrestling contests. Not to mention Rufioh, he works every Friday just so you and him can talk and possibly gossip. It's a nice way to end the week. You look at the calendar behind Rufioh's head, checking the date.

Eighteenth of December.

Fuck. Christmas is coming up. So's Hanukkah. Gotta be politically correct for your Jewish buddy. You trace the rim of your coffee mug, you have no one to spend this delightful time of year with. Again. You can't remember the last time you spent Christmas with someone. Usually it's just you and your crab, watching Christmassy romcoms and drowning yourself in your sorrows. You glance at Rufioh, who was serving someone, and sigh again. You hate having no one there, but you like being alone...alone, not lonely, is how you've been explaining it to your closest friends. But all are too busy having a life and/or a family to spend the holidays with you. It's torture. Then again most of their kids hate you anyway. And less money spent. Eventually you stand up, adjusting your jacket, "I should go home."

Rufioh only nods, coming back over and taking your mug. You trek to the door, glancing at the man that was eyeing you earlier. He is still looking at you. You can hear his heavy breath. You quickly leave the cafe, not wanting to face him.

 

You don't like men.

 

 

 

...right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of Ex-Marine, Karkat Vantas

You hate this time of year.

Dropping some worms into your crab's tank, you glare at the festive lights in your neighbor's garden from inside the comfort of your warm living room. That fucking family pisses you off so much, they go overboard with everything. Just last Halloween they were making kids bolt away, screaming their hearts out. You will admit that it was a bit funny but those kids are probably never coming back to your street.

You collapse on your couch, screaming into a pillow. You have nothing to do. It's a Saturday and you have nothing to do. Fan-fucking-tastic. Dragging your phone out of your pocket, you try to find something to do on that. Nothing. Fuck. You get up and stretch a bit, it's like you're old and stiff but you're only twenty-fucking-six. Fuck this shit. You trudge upstairs and get some actual clothes on rather than a tank top and shorts. After nearly falling downstairs, you get your coat on and head out. The snow is fucking freezing but whatever, you wander down the street, ignoring the 'morning' from strangers or neighbors. You head to town.

It's surprisingly quiet in town, not many shoppers. Odd, but you brush it off and thank the Lord that you can get some peaceful shopping done, maybe even a peaceful lunch. You saunter around a bit, casually buying some food and gifts for yourself. It's nothing much, after a few hours you still only have one bag with all your shit in it. You head down the street and go to a small café, a short boy serves you. He's oddly cute.

Wait.

No.

Bad.

You don't like men.

He gives you a cappuccino, you thank him quietly and pay. He walks off. You take a book you got out of your bag and read, sipping your beverage all the while. Until.

Fuck.

It's that guy from the bar yesterday. He's alone, like you are. But he's on a fucking laptop and sipping a frothy drink, just like last night. You can hear his heavy breathing.

Is he stalking you? No. Who would? You're just a tired, short man who's angry at the world.

You quickly finish your drink and get up, shoving your book back into your bag. He must have either heard you or is supernatural, because he looks up at you from across the café. You just bolt.

Fuck this.

Fuck that.

No.

You go home.

"Hey, Karkat!" Fucking neighbors trying to talk to you.

You get some snow in your hands, "How have you been since retiring?" Crush it into a ball, "I haven't seen you much since then-" and lob it at your neighbor.

He brushes it off his coat, but by the time he's looked up you're already inside. You pass your crab, gently petting it's shell as you head to your kitchen. You hate your neighbors. They know you don't like talking to them, but they still fucking try anyway. You open your fridge, scouring for something to eat. Nothing. You slam the door shut and trek to the couch; you collapse on the couch and turn the TV on.

You stay there for a while.

 

You jolt awake as you find yourself on the floor instead on the couch. Fucking. You fell off the godamn couch again. You get up and walk to the kitchen, scouring for something to eat. Then again you haven't bought any food in a while, might go do that later as you find jack fucking shit in the cupboards. Slamming the cupboard doors shut, you grumble to yourself and write a quick note and stick it on the fridge. This...fucking time of year. Your neighbors have families and you can't be bothered to go see your family. Honestly you can't remember the last time you spoke to your dad. Then again that's probably a good thing, if he saw you now he'd freak the fuck out. Hah. The image of your dad freaking out is hilarious. Mr Church Dude shouting at his only son for deciding to be a marine.

It's almost a relief you aren't around him anymore, he did everything in his power to make sure you were as perfect as can be. You remember bringing some guy from your physics class home one day just to piss him off. Did not work. But hey, the guy was cute anyway

Wait.

FUCK.

Karkat no, bad.

You trudge back to the living room and look at the TV. Somehow a bee documentary found it's way onto it. You turn it off and take out your phone. Might as well annoy some pissfuck for now.

cynicalBrachyura started pestering cartilaginousAquarium 

CB: Hey.  
CA: There's a surprise, what's up Kar?  
CB: The fuck do you mean 'There's a surprise'? I message you every day.  
CA: Not true, you message me when you've got nothing to do.  
CB: ...point made.  
CB: Anyway, how's the holiday season treating you?  
CA: If I see one more Christmas tree I'm suing the mall.  
CB: Nothing Jewish yet?  
CA: Kar it's like this every year, Christmas shit everywhere. What about fucking Hanukkah? It's a holiday too.  
CB: I don't know what to tell you.  
CA: Does anyone?  
CB: You just shot yourself.  
CA: I know I'm a terrible person.  
CB: Digging your own grave.  
CA: Maybe I'll put some explosives in my coffin so if someone tries to dig me up they'll get a face full of FUCK OFF.  
CB: Calm the fuck down Eridan.  
CA: Make me, marine boy.  
CB: That's not even an insult, I fought in the marine and you sat back and shot geese.  
CA: ...  
CA: I'm going to bed.  
CB: It's not even 6PM.  
CA: Kar I'm getting old, I'm allowed to go to bed early.  
CB: I'm older than you.  
CA: KAR I SWEAR TO GOD.  
CB: I specialize in pissing people off.  
CA: No shit Sherlock.  
CA: Just take care of yourself, okay? Last time I saw you, you were pretty beaten down.  
CB: I know. I'll try.  
CB: See you later, whenever later is.

cynicalBrachyura ceased pestering cartilaginousAquarium

You throw your phone onto the couch and lay on the floor. Might as well question life and the meaning of existence while you can, you need to go shopping soon anyway. You contemplate jacking off but look at your crab and decide not to.  
So you get up and go to your room.


	3. Chapter 3

You shouldn't have gone to town. It's busy today. You pull up your hoodie and keep your bag close; you don't like shoppers this time of year. Too festive. Fuck them. The air clears a bit as you head to your favorite coffee shop, the idiotic Christmas shoppers must not like this part of town. Whatever.

You walk in and sit by the window, you take out a book and wait to order. The waiter is reasonably nice that you don't know what to order, he says he'll surprise you. Cute.

Wait.

Bad Karkat.

No.

You try to focus on reading your book, the coffee place is always quiet so it isn't too difficult to sink into your novel. You zone out a bit, not even realizing that the waiter had given you a drink. This happens sometimes. Your trance is finally broken when you stop reading to question a character's movements but

Fuck.

It's him again.

That fucking guy again.

He's sitting nearby.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

You look back at your novel, trying to focus as you sip your beverage. Pumpkin spiced latte. Good choice, waiter. It barely takes you a minute to realize it isn't working. You down your beverage, shove your book in your bag, pay and leave.

But he follows.

You've had enough. You flip around and grab him by the collar - before he has time to react you've already thrown him into a nearby alleyway. As you walk closer, you hear his heavy breathing. Out of breath already? Pathetic. You swing a punch, hitting him in the jaw, "Why are you FUCKING following me?!" Although you try to sound intimidating, your voice comes out fearful.

He raises a hand to his jaw, feeling the area you punched. He doesn't look at you, "What are you talking about...?"

You throw another punch, this time, it hits his chest. He recoils more than you expected. His breathing grows heavier. "Everywhere I go, you're there! Fuck, you're fucking creepy!"

He grips his chest, "Listen-"

"NO!" You grab the stomach of his shirt and lift it up, trying to hold him in place, "No! Fuck you! Stop following..." You trail off as your eyes wander.

You notice something.

There are bandages wrapped around his chest.

You drop his shirt, he grips his chest in response. He opens his mouth to speak, but you deck him before he can find the words to say, "Are you a fucking idiot?!"

He pauses for a moment, "...what?"

"That's dangerous!" You pull out your phone, "That's why I can hear you before I see you..."

The air around you both seems to get warmer. But he stares blankly at you. "...what are you talking about?" His voice is weak. Now you know why.

You pull up an Amazon page and show it to him, "Here, these are safer than bandages." You gesture to one by Underworks, "These ones are softer."

When you look at him, you see the almost...amazement in his eyes. You let him hold your phone so he can scroll, and he does. You point out some that are on sale and others that are good for their job.

The air gets warmer again.

The clouds around your mouths remain but it's somewhat.

Nice.

Being there with him.

He taps on one to bring it up, he looks over it steadily, "...is this one okay?"

"Yeah." You scroll down a bit on the page, "You can read the reviews of people who've bought it." He takes a moment to read the reviews. You look at the ground. "...sorry I attacked you."

As he chuckles, you look at him, "It's fine, if I were you I'd attack me too." Fucker's smiling.

You gently nudge his side. "But were you following me?"

"No, just a bunch of freaky coincidences."

"You were staring at me at the cafe on Friday."

"You're hot, okay?"

You both laugh a bit. He looks back at your phone, checking over something. "...I...I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I can't buy this."

The air gets colder. "What? Why not?"

He returns your phone to you, "I don't have the money. And I don't have Amazon." He shoves his hands in his pockets.

You pause. Thinking. Then tap some things on your phone, "I'll buy it for you-"

"Wh-what? No, I can't let you do that."

You shove a finger to his mouth to shush him. Your hazel eyes stare into his glasses. He moves your hand, "I can't."

"..." You look back at your phone. This thing could save his life. You don't know him but something primal is burning inside you. Something that won't let you allow him to just walk away. You extend your hand to him, "I'm Karkat Vantas, an ex-marine."

He seems to hesitate, but he shakes your hand, "I-I'm Sollux Captor, a computer scientist." His hand his small. Soft.

You smile a bit at him, "Cool." You take a small sheet of paper out of your pocket, "Do you have Pesterchum?"

"Yeah, I do actually."

You offer the small sheet to him, "Here's my tag, message me. I'll get that binder for you."

"Karkat-"

"No, I'll text you when it arrives and you can come get it. Okay?"

He sighs and takes the paper, "Fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I know I've been updating this daily but this is going to be the last chapter for a while.  
> Maybe a long while.  
> I know that this chapter isn't a good one to end on for now but I need a break from writing, someone's opened my eyes to how blind I really am.  
> I'm sorry everyone.


End file.
